For although there is a hint of rain as we set off early one morning last week, the sky is as blue as the flowers we have ventured out south of Oxford to see. For this is bluebell time. Britain’s favourite flower. And according to Bea, the best place to experience its full beauty is at Bagley Wood. The time of year that the 568 acres of ancient woodland rolls out the blue carpet as if in readiness for a royal arrival.
At exactly this time last year I wrote on these pages about my outing to Iffley Meadows in search of Oxfordshire’s county flower, the snake’s head fritillary. I’d been informed that this was one of the few places close to the city where one could see in any numbers these delicate plum-coloured bells with their distinctive reptilian markings. And although I had been rewarded by the sight of a smattering of what have affectionately been called by descriptive names like ‘chequered lily’, ‘frog cup’, or ‘chess flower’ it was not the carpet, the swathes, the spectacle I had been expecting. For that, I was told later with a nod and a wink by those in the know, I must go to Addison’s Walk, a one mile raised pathway that circles an ancient island water meadow between tributaries of the River Cherwell in the grounds of Magdalen College.
For so detailed and realistic are the flowers, fruits and foliage carved around the border that they seem as if they are still sprouting and suffused with life, so rounded and realistic that you might feel inclined to reach out and pluck them for the table.
A bright sunny day this week found me heading up Walton Street to St Sepulchre’s cemetery. Sandwiched between a Londis convenience store – with its mops, brushes and buckets of…
This is Hill End Camp, 67 acres of unspoiled countryside four miles west of Oxford, protected by deed of trust for the outdoor education of children. And it is here that I am heading today, 100 years after the first cohort of infants from West Oxford Elementary School arrived by charabanc back in 1926. A pioneering project that championed a belief in the physical and phsycological benefits of being in the ‘great outdoors’, of immersing yourself in nature. And I am delighted to say that it is still going strong.
It is the 2nd February, or Candlemas, the date in the church calendar that marks the end of Christmastide and the beginning of spring. And to celebrate my friend, walking companion and expert in all things flora and fauna has taken me on a jaunt to see Candlemas Bells, more widely known as snowdrops, but so nicknamed after the time of year their delicate drooping heads emerge from the darkness of their frozen winter beds. A great place to see them in profusion, she claims, is not far from Oxford in the gardens of Nuneham House. About which I am secretly thrilled. For this is the resting place of the Carfax Conduit, a proud monument that once stood in the very centre of the city. I’d been keen to take a closer look for ages.
It’s at this dead time of year that the stuff becomes suddenly visible. When the leaves have fallen from the trees, revealing what appear to be giant birds’ nests perched amongst the fragile beauty of the bare winter branches. But these hanging baskets of vibrant green foliage are in fact huge balls of mistletoe. Magically, mysteriously, bearing fruit even through the shortest and darkest days of the year.
Anne Elliott has just begun her busiest time of year. Indeed over the next month everyone and their uncle will be wanting what she has to offer. Now aged 78…
Autumn has arrived in Oxford. And it is glorious. For the city and its parks are awash with fiery reds, buttery yellows and orange oches.
My local chapel is at Worcester College, close by to where Beaumont Palace once stood and where two Kings of England were born. It doesn’t look much from the outside. But once through the doors, you cannot fail to be moved by the magnificence of it all, every nook and cranny dripping with elaborate decoration. At once you are hit by a riot of colour, blues, greens, reds, purples, and gold. Lots of gold.